TAINTED SOUL (OFF HOLD)

CHAPTER 3: WOMAN COATED IN BLOOD

PLAY THE VIDEO ABOVE FROM NOW UP UNTIL THE FLASHBACK BEGINS

Warning: there are some mentions of mature content such as blood, abuse, killing, torture etc throughout the story. Be warned.

MILA'S POV:

I was speeding through the streets in my dodge, maneuvering as quickly as I possibly could inbetween the masses of traffic: It was already quarter to nine, 15 minutes before I was expected to reach the club, and if I didn't get there quickly, I was sure to miss my target.

So I sped up, from 60mph to 150mph, until I finally reached my destination where I swerved straight into the closest alleyway to the club: it was on the other side of the main entrance of the club. I slammed my foot on the break and skidded to a halt, stopping just before I smashed into the brick, dead-end wall of the alley. Ignoring my almost fatal collision, I quickly turned off the engine and unbuckled my seatbelt.

I ditched my leather jacket and switched my trademark combat boots for a pair of 3inch nude Valentino heels. I retouched my makeup in the mirror and strapped my knives in a garter concealed beneath my skirt.

After exiting the car, I made my way to the club doors, entering straight away: queues are no place for a VIP such as myself to be waiting.

The moment I entered, my vision was consumed by a dance floor filled with sweaty bodies: many of which surrounded a stage with strippers twisted expertly on poles, moving themselves to the thumping of the loud music as money rained down on them.

Rich men crowded the black, padded booths with whores sitting, or rather grinding, on their laps, and among the group sat my victim with a cigar sticking out from between his lips.

His name is Jason Storm, a powerful and influential business man who, at the age of 25, already owned chains of stores but- there's always a but with male capitalistic waste like this- He rapes underage girls, as well as beating innocent women, all whilst being constantly huffed up on the finest Amazonian coke. Scum like this almost makes me proud people like me exist to dispose of vile creatures such as himself. 

OK, hold on before you judge, I know I do bad things too, but that's way below the level of inhumane that this pompous creature possesses.

I decided to sit in the corner booth and ordered a fruity, vodka infused cocktail, as I slanted my legs in a seductive way giving a glimpse of the tops of my bare thighs. I sat there for 5 minutes waiting for my victim: I knew my prey would be unable to resist the trap which this predator had laid out for him.

He finally came wearing a creepy smirk on his face: it took all my will power not to smash his jaw in there and then.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing here all alone?"

"I'm just having a drink after a long day sirrr", I felt disgusted as I said that to him: I honestly hate this sometimes but at least I don't have to do it on a daily basis. I decided I would just try and catch my victim alone this time.

"How about you come with me while the night's still young? It's a privilege you're even being offered something like this by a highly esteemed man such as myself: you should grasp this opportunity with both hands whore.", he spoke as his gaze lingered on my thighs and cleavage.

"That sounds like a great idea, maybe we can squeeze something in the car before we go...", my voice dripped with seduction as I pretended to be interested in his offer.

"I agree, I mean it would be ungentlemanly for me to leave you waiting!", he said as he grabbed my wrist roughly before pulling me behind him until we got to a matte-black Ferrari parked out back, which I would have taken the time to admire had I not remembered the task in hand.